No Regrets – Friday Flash Fic., Dec. 15

hot-guys-with-dogs-1

“Dude, when are you getting that horrible tattoo covered up?” I asked, for about the hundredth time. I hated the thing — God is a righteous judge, a God who displays his wrath every day. It marred, in my humble opinion, an otherwise perfect body.

Dominic cuddled Shamus, our Golden retriever, closer. Shamus didn’t really like to be picked up, but he let Dominic do whatever he wanted. He was Dominic’s dog more than mine.

Dominic shrugged. “It’s expensive to get a tattoo covered up. Plus I keep forgetting it’s there. It’s completely irrelevant to my life now.”

“I still don’t understand what made you do it in the first place.”

He sighed and put the dog down. Shamus shook himself violently then raced toward the water.

“I was pissed off at my Dad. It was kind of a warning to him. That this “God” that he spoke of so often was judging him for what he did to me and mom, and not judging me because of the path my life took,” Dominic said angrily, picking up a rock and trying to skip it across the water. It hit the surface and jumped, then landed and sank. “Of course, he thought it meant I was finally coming around. Joke was on him though.” Dominic laughed, pursing his lips into a kissing shape and puckering at me.

“I just wonder if some people might read it and take it the wrong way,” I said. Anything remotely religious made me extremely uncomfortable. I’d faced bigotry and hatred most of my life and it was always from ultra-religious freaks who quoted God at every opportunity.

Dominic shrugged. “Who cares? I feel like it’s a private joke between me and,” he pointed up at the sky, “whoever might be up there.”

I nodded. I kind of got it. It did make sense the way he described it. Like the perfect flipping off of his Dad that kind of went under the wire until Dominic was ready to actually leave.

“I still think you should get it covered up,” I said, picking up my own rock and making a much better throw. I watched it hit the very top of the water once, twice and a third time before it disappeared. “Or at least get another tattoo that says I LOVE PATRICK MORRISON. Maybe on your ass.” I laughed.

Dominic smiled and rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“I know.”

He whistled for Shamus and we started back for the cabin.

“I’d settle for just my first and last name. One on each cheek,” I said archly, starting to run when I realized Dominic was chasing me.

 

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